


Thank you

by AnnieDMC



Category: Football RPF
Genre: Friendship, Gen, Rivals, friends - Freeform, leo needs a hug
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-14
Updated: 2015-01-14
Packaged: 2018-03-07 14:22:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 678
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3175930
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnnieDMC/pseuds/AnnieDMC
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After the loss of the final of 'La copa del Rey', Lionel has a hard time coming to terms with himself, but the last person he wants to talk to is the only one that can cheer him up.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Thank you

**Author's Note:**

> Hello there! Well, this is my first time writing this kind of... thing. Anyway, this takes place after Barcelona loses the final against Real Madrid. I had written this a long time ago and just figured I would post it here. Friendship and a little Leo/Cris if you squint very, very hard. I hope you enjoy :)

The final whistle echoes around the stadium and Leo can do nothing but look around the place, disappointment clearly written in his pale face.

Barcelona lost. _Again_.

And to add insult to injury they had lost another final – and to Real Madrid no less.

He looks around the field. His friends and partners looking destroyed, depressed, lost.

As if the negative feelings swirling in his mind weren’t enough, he feels guilty. He had tried his best, he had given one hundred percent or more, he did everything he could, but that was not enough.

_It never is_ , he reminds himself bitterly. He knows that it doesn’t matter how much he tries, he is fresh meat for those vultures that call themselves reporters. He is going to be blamed for the loss, no matter how much effort he put into the match, no matter how hard he worked.

The lump in his throat tightens as he watches with downcast eyes the celebration of the merengue team.

He shakes Sergio Ramos’ hand and offers a polite smile, silently congratulating him and trying to get away from the festive environment as soon as possible. He makes his legs move a little faster while trying his best not to look as devastated and desperate as he feels.

Oh, he really wants the day to be over, although probably the next day he is going to be in the cover of every sport’s magazine. He can imagine the tittles already.

_“Where is the genius Lionel Messi?”_

Tears fill his eyes, but he refuses to let them out. They have been humiliated enough. _He_ has been humiliated enough.

He is so lost in his negative thoughts when he sees him – Cristiano Ronaldo.

And that only serves as a reminder of how bad the moment is for his team. Barcelona had lost and Ronaldo hadn’t even played.

Cristiano is laughing, congratulating his teammates on their win. Their win. He hadn’t even played, but he had won.

And Leo? Well, if you’re not the winner, you’re obviously the loser. Lionel had won nothing, except rejection and unreasonable hatred from some of the Barcelona fans that screamed at him to leave the club and go waste his time in Argentina.

But he loves the club, and he loves his country, so he plays deaf ears, deliberately ignoring those hurtful comments, wishing he could have done something to stop them in the first place, but he couldn’t. He can’t.

He tries to think of any excuse to run away when he sees the Luso approaching. He does not want to deal with that, with _him_.

He tries to avoid Cristiano, turning around, but the Portuguese player makes a bee-line for him and immediately catches up.

Leo looks away and tries not to break down.

“Hey,” The Portuguese greets. His voice somehow soothing, and not filled with arrogance and pride, as Leo thought it would be.

“H-hey,” He mentally slaps himself for stuttering. For looking so weak and so small in front of Cristiano.

“You did a good job,” He says, his hand coming up for Leo to shake.

Lionel shakes it lightly, and then he squeezes it, as if he would obtain some kind of strength, something, anything from Cristiano.

Cris returns the squeeze and a small smile graces his lips. “You will do better next time,” He assures, letting go of Leo’s hand to put a comforting arm around the smaller man’s shoulders.

_Next time_.

What if there is no next time?

Doubts fill Lionel and his eyes cloud again. Guilt, pain, and fear dance on his dark orbs.

Cristiano can sense it, so he hugs Lionel tightly. “You deserve a second chance, _enano_. You’ll do better next time. You’d better do better next time, because I  will be playing.” He sounds convincing, and that’s enough to reassure Leo. So he smiles.

Those were the words he expected the less, but those were the words that he needed the most to hear. So he returns the hug with equal force.

“Thank you.”

Cristiano just nods. “Anytime, _pulga_.”


End file.
